


Eve of Destruction

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy





	Eve of Destruction

The moon rose blood-red--a huge, somber disk--shedding wan light over the desolate landscape. Each full moon that passed, Ukoku was reminded, was another inexorable marker widening the chasm between him and the day that Koumyou was murdered.

It had been thirteen months, now. Thirteen full moons had stared blankly down at him; the ironic truth being that, since Koumyou had died, when the moon was fullest and closest to the earth was the only time that Ukoku felt any reprieve from the demons that drove him. It was the only time his darkness was breached, the only time he felt his friend's presence.

He'd expected the acute pain that accompanied the realization he would never again in this life share a cup of sake with Koumyou Sanzo--never again sit in quiet solitude next to him while the crickets raised their evening song--to diminish with time's march. But that had yet to come to pass.

Even putting the vast Pacific between had failed to numb the ache. And so, Ukoku had returned to China and drifted through the same forests he'd once wandered content in the knowledge that at the end of his travels Koumyou would be waiting with a warm pot, an open mind and open arms. He should have known it had been too good to be true.

Koumyou would have been far better off if he'd turned his back that fateful day and abandoned Ken'yuu to his fate at Zenouji. Godai, in the end, had been right: he wasn't cut out to be a Sanzo priest. His barren forehead only served as an outward reminder to what he knew in his heart was true.

But Ukoku knew that it had already been too late by that point. Had Koumyou left him then, he would have surely followed, mesmerized by the sultry swish of long blond hair sliding against simple monk's robes--only Koumyou could make those shapeless garments attractive, could turn them into a mystery that defied all reason and capture Ukoku's overheated imagination. There was nothing left of that, though. His robes chafed him with every step, the punishment reminding him of every thing he'd lost that night when Koumyou departed behind a curtain of blood.

Tomorrow, he would shed them and step into another world--one that in all likelihood would tie him to his past, and bind him to Koumyou.


End file.
